anything could happen
by everythingwasblue
Summary: Barely surviving by living on her own, sixteen year old Vanellope gets sucked into the nightmarish storm that's known as high school. Can she survive the ongoing turmoil that surrounds her, and find peace within herself after falling in love with one of her fellow students? (High School AU. Rated T for mentions of drugs and violence. Co-written with bluejunemoon)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**: A quick little warning—this chapter does contain a mentioning of drugs.

This high school AU is written in collaboration with my fantastic best friend, bluejunemoon. The two of us hope that you enjoy reading, just as much as we enjoyed writing it!

* * *

_Chapter 1_

* * *

The circled box on her calendar seems to grow bigger and bigger each day. With summer almost coming to a close, she is dreading the thought of going back to school. One more week until she won't have freedom to go wherever she pleases. Instead, she would be stuck in a classroom, staring at the four walls out of boredom and only wishing to get back to her apartment.

The girl stares at her most recent strike against the calendar—September 5th. In seven days, on September 12th, high school would send her into a black abyss of homework, tests, and loneliness. She _really_ didn't want to think about that, but she knew she had to. In fact, the letter that is sitting on her desk for two weeks, apparently from the high school, had been left unopened, and it was probably time to open it up.

Her head turns and she glances over at the envelope which had started to collect dust at this point, and knew she had put it off for long enough. Slowly and silently she makes her way over, sliding into her chair with ease as she took her place in front of her desk. Her fingers reach forward to find the envelope within their grasp, but she hesitated. Maybe she _could_ put it off a little longer, if she _really_ wanted to. There is a whole week left before she had to go to school, after all.

_No_, her mind scolds her, _you need to open that letter right now_. She took one more moment to hesitate, and sighs through her nose before she reaches forward and started to open the envelope. She makes sure to avoid the part where it had clearly been licked and she pulls out the white, folded paper, swallowing nervously as she tosses away the envelope. As she unfolds the letter, her eyes immediately start to trail the words as she read.

_Dear Ms. Vanellope Von Schweetz,_

_Welcome to King High School! Here at King, we are dedicated to developing the character and intellectual strengths that will lead to an enriched adult life. Students are encouraged to partake in the community at King through our copious elective programs; I am almost positive that you will find a part of our school that will fit you. In addition to academics, I expect you to find a comfortable social circle that you can call "home." Learning to work with people from many diverse backgrounds is the key to succeeding as a healthy adult. I am looking forward to greeting you personally once school begins on September 12th. _

_Sincerely,_

_Mr. Candy_

As the reality of the letter started to sink in, Vanellope thought about what life at a new high school was going to be like. While the letter seemed to have a warm, welcoming tone, Vanellope knew well of what teens her age were capable of. Despite the reassurance, she was not entirely convinced that every person at her new high school was going to be as friendly as the letter implied.

"Oh snap, crackle, pop! I need to make the runs!" Vanellope groaned, jumping up from her chair.

She goes through her morning routine—if one could call it that—where she throws her hair up in a ponytail, slips into her mint-green hoodie and brown skirt, and heads to the kitchen. When she opens the fridge, her nose crinkles at the lack of desirable breakfast items. As a result, she figures it would be better to just skip breakfast altogether. A cheeseburger from the BurgerTime diner sounds pretty good right about now, but that would require a bit more money than she actually had. The thought of eating such a great meal makes her mouth water.

But a moment later, Vanellope sighs as her stomach growls. It was in that moment that she decides she will make her runs a little earlier than usual. In one swift motion, she slams the fridge's door shut before she puts a bit of enthusiasm in her step. As she makes it to the front door of her apartment, she casts one look back to the lonely yet humble abode she owned.

For a short couple of seconds she thinks, and even dares to imagine what life could be like if this apartment of hers wasn't so empty. She moves a stray piece of hair aside before she blinks, and then rolls her eyes at such a silly thought. She had, after all, been a loner for the majority of her life, and didn't exactly see that changing anytime soon. This place would stay just as isolated as it always was, with its decrepit walls that peeled paint at the corners, and its one old couch that was so aged, cotton was popping out of little wears and tears in the fabric. The place was truly barren.

Her heart aches a little. It's not like she says goodbye to a mother and father everyday. She's never gotten tucked into bed and have anyone tell her 'sweet dreams.' Part of her longs for it, and a pang settles in her chest as she ponders on the thought of what life with a family would be like. But after some contemplation, she snaps out of it.

Vanellope surveys her living situation and instead of feeling sad, she just smiles to herself. It might be run down, but it all belongs to her, and that was enough to make her happy. As long as she didn't have to go anywhere _near_ that old orphanage ever again, she would be pleased.

Though she supposed to herself that she wouldn't be alone later on, since the government worker would be coming by the next day to visit her. That made the need to go out for a heist all the more urgent. She digs around in her hoodie's pouch until she finds her sunglasses, places them on her face, and then turns to walk out the door to try to cheat her way through getting a cheeseburger before night hits.

* * *

A disgruntled woman walks by with a stroller; her half-lidded eyes, her deep-casted frown, and her wailing child tells the entire story. _Aww, geez. She would be easy, but even I wouldn't wanna ruin her day even more; she's already miserable, _Vanellope thought to herself. Putting her hands in her pockets, she leans back on the weathered brick wall; its past vibrant red has aged into a cracked golden brown. She pushes her sunglasses back up; her mind is still in deep thought.

A pudgy, short man saunters across Vanellope's field of vision. He is dressed in a pristine, perfectly-ironed suit that fits snugly to his figure. _He must've had that tailored, _thought Vanellope. He has the last remaining strands of his snow-white hair slicked back; his back stood straight, his chin is raised to the sky, and his eyes betray no emotion. _Wow, that is a real moneybags if I've ever seen one. Old people have always been easy, but I might be hunted down if I ever put a single finger on him, _contemplated Vanellope.

From the corner of her eye, a new potential victim lazily stomps past. He towers above everyone in his way; he is heavy-set, but it looks like he could easily crush someone's windpipe. He walks barefoot on the hard concrete, and his hands and feet are caked in dirt. His clothes are minimal: he wears a pair of badly torn pants and a battered, grimy jacket over a t-shirt filled with holes. Even though there is a fair amount of distance between them, Vanellope's nostrils are attacked by the giant man's foul stench. He reeks: it was a horrible combination of sweat, dirt, and whatever else he has on his body.

Vanellope wrinkles her entire face in reply. _Gross! He smells like a rotten piece of meat that has been left out in the sun for an entire week, _Vanellope thinks. Glancing out of her squinted eyes, she notices that the man's jacket is bulging out at his side and misshapen. _Jackpot! He definitely has something in there. I would rather never touch him, but I really want that BurgerTime meal._

Letting the giant man trudge past her, she pulls up her hood and begins to stroll right behind him. _Okay… Gotta do this fast! _In a blink of an eye, Vanellope snakes her way around to his side, roughly bumps his arm, and reaches into his jacket pocket. She feels something firm and solid, and before the man could even react to her initial bump, she quickly snatches it and deposits it in her hoodie's pocket. All of Vanellope's actions were executed fluidly and almost instantaneously; it was proof of her experience and practicing in pickpocketing.

"WOAH!" bellowed the giant man. "Watch it!" He gives Vanellope a quick glare before continuing on his way.

She smirks in reply, "Nah, you watch _yourself_."

She spins on her heel and held back her snickering as she clutches her pickpocketed item within her hands. _That was _way _too easy_, Vanellope couldn't help but grin as she increases her speed and skips around the corner. She breathes a sigh of relief as her heart rate, which had sped up quite a bit, starts to beat at its normal pace again.

A moment passes by where she smiles smugly to herself, and the thought of cheeseburgers and crispy french fries floats through her mind. As her mouth waters all over again, she pulls the item out of her hoodie pouch. Her eyebrows immediately furrow in confusion upon what she sees—it's a small, white box, a bit dinged up on the outside and fairly dirty despite the color of the exterior. Feeling irritated now, she secures her hand around the grimy top of the box and pulls it off.

Immediately, her eyes widen as stun washes over her like a wave crashing against the shore. Inside, there is no money, but instead she finds various buds of roasted grass. It's prickly to the touch, glazed with small specks of gold, and wears a coat of snow-white particles.

"What the. . . are you kidding me?" she snaps under her breath. She should have known that big guy was no good! No wonder he smelled so bad. He was just a no good bum with an addiction, and she had no means to get involved with _any_ drugs—

"Hey!" there was a furious shout, and Vanellope's head immediately snaps up to see the man she has just robbed. Her pupils visibly shrunk when it became clear he was in a rage—his breathing was sounding labored as he stood a few feet away, taking a moment to catch his breath as he stares at her. "Give me back my stuff!"

Vanellope starts to contemplate what to actually do in a situation like this. There had been times where she'd almost gotten caught, sure—but never had she been confronted. She was so sure she had gotten off fine, but now as she stares back at the angered beast, she was not so sure what to actually do. So, she decides upon the one thing she knows how to do best.

The teenager, without dropping the box, immediately takes off running, hearing the man shout at her once more. _This isn't the best plan, _is all she can think to herself. She easily maneuvers between the people walking down the sidewalk, ignoring their mutters of annoyance as she brushes past them. She knows, though, that the burly man is chasing after her, and that fact terrifies her.

Vanellope notices that up ahead, the crosswalk has just turned red, but that doesn't stop her. Her brows furrowed together in determination as she does not hesitate at all. She only glances to look over her shoulder, and sees that the man is hot on her heels, shoving past pedestrians in order to get to Vanellope. Now she's dead set on what she's about to do. The girl braces herself as the light turns green up ahead, and she runs head-on into traffic that had just started to move. There's an immediate retaliation as cars honk. Her head turns just fast enough to see a car slamming on its breaks, and she jumps just high enough to where the vehicle barely avoids nicking her as it finally screeches to a halt.

Someone pokes their head out to scream a curse at her, but she ignores it as her feet hit concrete again. She turns around and a grin appears on her face when she notices the smelly hobo hasn't decided to pursue her past the crosswalk—maybe he valued his life too much to risk a move like the one that Vanellope had just managed to pull off. Now feeling quite smug, she turns a corner and disappears out of sight.

Vanellope certainly was _not_ expecting opening up a box to find some deranged man's stash—but now that she was staring down at it, she couldn't help but think that it might be a good thing that she found this little box. It wasn't money, but it certainly could be sold for money. Thinking about it like that made her feel a little more satisfied in robbing the hobo, and she couldn't help it as another smirk crossed her face.

While she isn't about to get a steaming cheeseburger and crunchy fries, she _might_ get plenty of money to have that meal multiple times in the future if she plays her cards correctly and finds someone desperate enough to buy off of her. It was true that she had detested such an idea at first, but she might as well take advantage of such a situation. She continues to walk down the street, and she hums pleasantly to herself as she can't help but giggle now about the expression of that furious man. He truly had looked ridiculous.

Vanellope pauses and turns her head to see a shortcut back to her apartment. She's crossed this alleyway plenty of times—it was perfectly safe. She cautiously checks one last time for the man she'd robbed, and once she sees that the coast is clear, she inconspicuously heads down the alleyway.

There's a little pep in her step as she glances up at the sky. The sun is no longer visible between the tops of the buildings, but instead the sky is starting to change colors. She pulls her phone out of her skirt pocket to check the time, and she sees that it's starting to get late. The government worker wouldn't be at her apartment until noon the next day, which would give her plenty of time to hide her little stash somewhere in her home before he got there. She sighs as she slips her phone away again, smirking at how genius she felt for flipping a bad situation into a good one.

Vanellope looks up just in time to notice that the gate that sits at the end of the alleyway—which was usually unlocked—was closed, locking her in. She can't help but groan at this as she tugs on the gate with one hand, trying to pry it open, but to no avail. It doesn't budge.

"Great." She murmurs under her breath, a look of aggravation on her face. She's never seen the gate locked up before. Just as she's about to turn around, something tells her she's being watched. Vanellope straightens up and harshly swallows, preparing for the worst as she slowly turns around.

Her worst fear is confirmed as a shadow looms over her, and her eyes slowly rise up to meet the face of the now disgruntled man. His massive arms are crossed over his chest as he stares down at her, a mix of anger and annoyance in his expression. Vanellope's fingers tap against the side of the box as she purses her lips, looking for any means of escape as her eyes wander. The awkward silence becomes extremely tense as neither of them speak.

That's when Vanellope suddenly makes her move—she quickly snaps around, shoving the box in her hoodie pouch and then jumping at the gate, desperately making a means to climb up it. Her hands fail to get a grip on the metal, but she wraps her legs around the gate in an attempt to find enough hold to drag herself up.

"You little thief, are you insane? You nearly got yourself killed over a box!" the man spits the words at her, and she feels her heart start to pound. She notices that he's gotten closer by a few steps. The space in between them is not enough.

"Lay one hand on me, and I'll scream." Vanellope hisses at him, her arms wrapped around the cold metal for dear life.

"I just want my box."

Vanellope thinks about the way he says it. Though he looks angry, he seems to have suppressed it into a more calm demeanor. One hand is being held out as if he's expecting her to simply drop the box there. Thinking about the fact that she has a slight advantage over him, she starts to relax and a smirk crosses her face as she lets go of the gate.

"Oh, yeah? And why should I give it back?" Vanellope asks, cocking her head slightly as she looks up at him, feeling complacent with her clearly getting under his skin as he appears to bristle.

"Because it's mine?" he says, as if it's obvious. "And I need it. What's a kid like you need that stuff for anyway?"

She falters slightly as she thinks about the reason she even pickpocketed him to begin with, "It's. . . it's nothing that _you_ have to know about!"

He frowns at this, but then he's the one smirking. "I'll call the cops on you."

"What are they gonna do? You're just gonna get in trouble for having this stuff on you." Vanellope returns, trying to keep her cool.

"Not if you have it," he reasons, "they're going to arrest _you_, not me."

"They can't arrest me, I'm just a kid!" Vanellope shouts at him.

"And you're a little asshole, too." The man points out, but then seems to become genuinely curious instead of desiring to simply continue the banter. "I can't believe I have to beg a kid to give me something back that's _mine_. Besides, what're you robbing people for? Do you have nothing better to do?"

Vanellope immediately hesitates. For one, she doesn't want this guy to call the cops on her and pin having the box in possession on her, but at the same time, he was making her infuriated with his choice of words, and she certainly despises being questioned on her motives. She doesn't want to give the box back, but she knows she has to. Maybe it was just a pipe dream to try and get a lot of money off of selling the contents of the box anyhow. . .

She tears the box out of her hoodie and shoves it into his stomach, feeling bitter about this entire thing.

"Have your stupid box, then, you reeking hobo! See how much I care," she snaps at him, and without another word, she heatedly walks down the alleyway from where she came.

She's really mad, she has to admit that to herself. But giving up what she stole was better than having the police called on her. That's the last thing she wanted, and besides, she didn't want some smelly old guy to be the one to get her in trouble either.

"Hey, wait a sec, kid!"

Vanellope was certainly not expecting to hear the man call after her. He sounds a little happier after having his belongings returned to him, but she's still fuming over the fact she wasted precious time on stealing a box from some hobo only to return it. And, what made her angriest of all, not getting _any_ money, especially after not going on a run like this in a while.

She paused and looked over her shoulder to see that the man was jogging to catch up to her.

"Hey, kid. I don't know what has you all twisted, but I'll buy ya some ice cream to cool your head off with."

Vanellope frowns at the offer. "With what money? Aren't you forgetting that you're broke?"

He puckers his lips and casts his gaze down, embarrassed. "Well, I haven't gotten that far yet."

Vanellope can't help but crack a laugh at his antics. He's stupid and he reeks, but he's funny!

"See, kid, I made ya laugh. Anyways, you should scamper on home to your parents."

At the mention of her parents, a wave of pain rushes through Vanellope's body. She raises her cheeks and forcefully shuts her eyes: tears are threatening to rush out. He realizes his misunderstanding and tries to stammer out an apology.

"A-ah kid! I-I didn't know! I'm sorry! Look, that's twice the ice cream for you now! Please don't cry! I'm sorry!" Vanellope ignores his numerous apologies and tries to concentrate on calming herself down. Not noticing, the giant man continues trying to remedy the situation. "Look, I don't know if this helps, but like, I don't have my parents anymore, either!"

Vanellope immediately gazed up at him with her red, tear-filled eyes, "Really?"

"Yeah. I don't have family anymore. Ran away from 'em a long time ago."

Vanellope widens her eyes: he is like her.

"I… uh… ran away from my family too. Err, not my parents; I've never met them. I ran away from my orphanage 'cuz the people there were assholes. So now I've come to this city and just trying to survive in my little apartment."

The stocky man's face softened and he gives her a gentle smile.

"Hey, it happened to me too. My whole family treated me badly; they made me feel like dirt. And I would know what dirt is like!" he said, gesturing to his unwashed, filthy feet.

Vanellope lets out an soft, airy laugh. She has a lot more in common with this hobo than she would like to admit.

The man's face is contorted, deep in thought. "Actually, was that the reason why you tried to pickpocket me? You got no money?"

Vanellope gives a weak nod in reply.

"Well, I got no money either," the man points out. To prove his point, he turned all of his pockets inside out; lint and scraps of trash falls to the ground. "If we're talking about surviving, I'll say you've been doing a whole lot better than me! I don't even have a home!"

Vanellope looks the man up and down; he really is doing worse than her, if the grime and odor didn't give it away immediately. _Maybe I can help him. He's just like me, _she thought.

She gazes up at the sky. The sun is sinking below the horizon, dying the sky a warm orange. The sunset stretches shadows of buildings, making them twice as long. Soon, the sun will be laid to rest and the moon will rise to take its place, becoming the shepherd of the millions of stars in the sky. Soon, night will come.

_It's so cold out here at night. I'll feel bad if he has to sleep in the streets,_ Vanellope thought to herself.

"Hey, how about you sleep in my apartment? Consider it an apology for stealing your stuff. I don't want you to sleep in the cold. But you _HAVE_ to promise me that you will take a shower." Vanellope says.

The man balks at her; stunned at her offer. This is the first time anyone ever offered to help him, especially in this city. It feels strange to actually _want_ to accept the help. Thinking about staying another night sleeping in one of the dingy alley ways the city had to offer was extremely unappealing.

"I mean. . . are you sure about that, kid?" he asks her.

Vanellope is gazing up at him. Though previously she had been scared of him, she really felt happy that she had chosen to rob him. She was, back in the orphanage, teased and tormented quite frequently. To find someone who related to that type of situation, and not having a family? It made her happy. . . happy to know that she wasn't alone. It made her feel like he wasn't dangerous, even if it was risky to let him stay at her apartment for the night.

But she couldn't just let him go, when they were both so similar. It wouldn't feel right.

"Yeah, I'm sure." Vanellope responds, and she's got that mischievous little grin on her face.

"Well. . . if you insist," he says, "but I think you're a little too easy to trust a stranger."

"You could say that. . ." Vanellope shrugs, "I've just got a good feeling about this."

The young girl started to walk, and her new friend started to follow. She looked over her shoulder, noticing that he was smiling a little. At the end of the day, both of them were still poor, but at least Vanellope would have someone at the apartment now, and it would feel less empty.

"Hey, what's your name?" Vanellope asks.

"It's Ralph," the man responds.

"Nice to meet you, Ralph. My name's Vanellope."

* * *

For the first time since she had fled the orphanage, she slept in the house without being alone. While she was inclined to not trust Ralph completely yet, he hadn't bothered her at all, which made her glad.

She wakes up around noon the next day, and it makes her feel a bit lazy, but considering she would be stuck in a death trap for five days a week starting in six days, she wasn't going to reprimand herself too much over it.

As soon as she's ready to get up, she leaves her room and stretches, yawning. She rubs at one eye when she notices that Ralph is already awake and roaming around in the kitchen.

"Wow, I can't believe it. There _is_ a human below all of that dirt!" Vanellope says, cracking a grin.

Ralph glares over his shoulder as he looks through the cabinets, "Yeah, shocking, I know."

Vanellope practically bounces over, smirking, "What time is it?"

"Uh. . ." Ralph thinks for a moment. "I think it's almost noon."

"Oh!" Vanellope's eyes pop open in shock. She immediately grips at the sides of her head in a panic. The thought had completely slipped her mind—

There was a knock at the door, interrupting her from her thoughts. Her brown eyes immediately redirected themselves to the front door, and Ralph looks at her with a raised brow.

"Vanellope? I know you're awake." Avoice came muffledly from behind the door. Vanellope had to hold back a sigh, and she looks up at Ralph with an awkward smile.

"Just play it cool. It's the government service worker coming to check in on me." She says it so casually, that Ralph starts to nod until he realizes what she said.

"The government _who_?"

"I'm coming!" Vanellope calls to the door, and she glares at Ralph before adding, "Just be quiet and pretend you aren't here."

She makes her way over to the door a moment later, unlocking it and pulling it open.

"How are you doing today, Vanellope?" greets Surge: her government service worker.

Vanellope flashes him an innocent smile, "I'm doing great, Mr. Surge!"

The balding, middle-aged man steps inside as she closes the door, hoping that by some miracle he won't notice that Ralph is there.

Surge strolls around the apartment, occasionally stopping to examine something unimportant and jotting down a few words on his notepad. He makes his way to the kitchen, suddenly taking interest in the growing pile of dishes in the sink.

"So, Vanellope, I'm hoping you are finding comfort in your new pla—"

On the ground in front of him lays Ralph; he's crouching down and covering his head. Ralph glances up at Surge, and springs ups, hoping to explain himself. Ralph seemed to forget that he is almost seven feet, weighs the same amount as a stag, and looks like he can break a skull with just a punch.

"_AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH_! There's an intruder! Call 911!" shrieks Surge.

"There's no way you're gonna do that!" Ralph bellows. He wraps his hands around Surge's wrists in an effort to restrain him.

Vanellope still stands in the doorway, her face in her palms. "Dang it, Ralph," she grumbles under her breath. "Not the introduction I was hoping for."

After a few minutes of Vanellope explaining the situation, Surge started to come back down to Earth after his initial panic attack. He sat down on the couch after having requested Ralph to stay outside for the rest of his chat with Vanellope. The government worker sits there, rubbing his temple fervently, while Vanellope watches him nervously from her place on the other side of the couch.

"What were you thinking?" he asks in exasperation, readjusting his glasses as he stares over at the young teenager.

Vanellope shifts nervously under his death stare. It was clear there was disappointment in his face, and she knew she wasn't about to get off so easy. She had never, in her entire time of knowing him, heard him scream in such a girly manner. Maybe if the circumstances were different, Vanellope would've been rolling on the floor right now, holding onto her sides—but instead, she has to be dealing with the repercussions of a split-second decision she made yesterday.

"He's not bad, Mr. Surge. I know that he seems like some smelly hobo, but he's just like me."

Surge opens his mouth to respond, but closes it slowly as he processes her words. He looks back down at his notepad and starts to write something down, piquing Vanellope's interest. What was so interesting about the words she'd spoken?

"So because you related to. . . _Ralph_," he says the name in disdain, "who is a grown man. . . you, a sixteen-year-old girl, decided to let him stay with you in your apartment?"

Vanellope blinks, tilting her head slightly, "Wow, seems like you've got it down pat. Why's it so surprising?"

"Because it's not realistic, Vanellope," Surge heaves a sigh, clicking his pen against the notepad. "He absolutely cannot stay with you. He is not a parental guardian, he is a _stranger_."

"Well. . . well. . ." Vanellope fights with herself to find the right words to say, "I just thought it would be nice to have someone else around for a change. Is that so wrong?"

Surge's eyes widen slightly behind his glasses as he moves his stare from Vanellope to his notepad. He swallows a bit harshly, and Vanellope looks at him expectantly. Her brows are furrowed together now, and the edge of the couch is between her fingertips as she squeezes it.

"Now, Vanellope, you and I both know you had plenty of people around you at the orphanage—"

"No!" Vanellope immediately interrupts him, not allowing him to even finish the thought. "Those people were horrible to me. You know why I left, Mr. Surge, don't make me say it again."

Surge breathes a sigh through his nose, "Yes, I know why."

"So what, because I wanted to get away from those awful people, I have to live my life in solitude with no hopes of ever having a family, or even friends?" she questions. She is dead serious, Surge can tell by her expression. The other times that he had come by to check out her living situation, and to make sure she was okay, had gone far better than this. She seemed to be content with being alone, but even he had to admit that living alone at sixteen with no family was fairly bleak, and he can understand her frustrations.

"I understand. That isn't fair to you," he says, "but I must put my foot down. Your new 'friend' cannot stay here. It would be wrong of me to leave you alone with him, as it's unsafe. I would not trust someone off the street to stay in my own home, and you would be in danger if he keeps sleeping here. I must also point you to a better direction and tell you to make friends your own age."

Vanellope knows that Surge is just saying these things because it's his job. It makes her upset, but she just nods.

"Okay. . . you're right."

Surge blinks in surprise, but he smiles.

"I'm glad that you understand, Vanellope. Now, just let me handle this."

Vanellope looks on with dread as he approaches the door, where Ralph is waiting outside. Surge opens the door, ready to tell the homeless man the reality of the situation. But instead of being greeted by the towering man, there is no one outside.

Vanellope perks up, her jaw unhinging when she saw that Ralph had gone. Surge turns back to her, looking a tad relieved by this sudden turn of events.

"Well. . . that was more painless than I thought," he says aloud with a chuckle.

Vanellope on the other hand is not amused in the slightest—in fact, she's sad. She looks at Surge, who walks back over to her.

"I'll be on my way now, Vanellope. I'll come by again in two weeks to see how things are going at school. Hang in there, alright? And if you see that man again, you know my number. Don't hesitate in giving me a ring if you feel scared."

Vanellope's eyelids droop at this statement, but she gives a firm nod anyway. Surge gives her another smile before he heads back out the door, Vanellope following closely behind.

The two say their goodbyes to each other, and she shuts the door.

And for a moment, she stares at it, shocked that Ralph had actually disappeared. It makes her angry. He only wanted to use her for a place to sleep, to shower, to cozy up in and then run off. Her hands ball into fists at the mere thought of being used like that, and she starts cursing under her breath.

It isn't very long, however, until she hears another knock at the door. It seems urgent, and Vanellope feels herself bristling already. She had just seen Surge out, and now he is back?

She heads over to the door, frowning in irritation as she goes. With hesitation she opens the door, and she snaps, "Listen, Mr. Surge, I don't know what you're doing here again, but—"

Her eyes pop when instead of seeing the government worker, it's Ralph in the doorway. He's grinning, the space between his front teeth clearly showing.

"Hey, kid."

"Ralph! Where'd you go off to? I thought you left for real!" Vanellope says.

"Well, I couldn't help but overhear what that guy was saying, so I pretended I left."

Vanellope crosses her arms as she shuts the door behind her, and the friendly giant is once again in her apartment.

"For a sec, I thought you were just like every other hobo—that you used me and then vanished."

"Nope, I gotta tell ya, I'm not like a typical hobo. I might smell, but I wouldn't do that to ya."

Vanellope giggles in response. "Well. . . I'm happy to see that you're back. Gets a little quiet around here, you know?" she laughs a bit uncomfortably.

Ralph looks at her, and smiles.

"At least now it'll be a little less quiet."

"Hey, that sounds great and all, but I _need_ quiet on school nights. And by the way, since you're staying here for free, you gotta respect everything I say, alright hobo boy?"

Ralph stares, unamused while Vanellope snickers.

Getting to know Ralph is going to be quite the entertaining experience for the young girl.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N**:

**everythingwasblue: **Thank you so much for your reviews, it means so much to the two of us! I hope that you continue to enjoy our story. There's so much in this fic that we're so excited for you to see.

**bluejunemoon: **i love this chapter... writing the interactions was really fun. creating the images of everyone was hell but like... if hell had a bouncy castle, you know?

* * *

_Chapter 2_

* * *

Vanellope paces back and forth across her apartment. She had been able to sleep a couple of hours, but woke up far earlier than intended. School starts at seven and she has an hour of time left to be nervous. She's got a train of thoughts rushing through her mind.

_What if no one likes me there? What if I make no friends? What if it's just like my old school?_

As she paces, she realizes that she's not the only one awake in the apartment.

"Hey, kid, what're you pacing for?" she hears the voice of Ralph, who is splayed lazily out on the rickety old crouch. She perks up and glances in his direction.

"What do you _think _I'm pacing for?" she retorts. "My life is going to be over in an hour!"

Ralph only scoffs at this, "You're exaggerating. It'll be fine."

"How do you know I'll be fine? Did you even go to school, Ralph?"

"Of course I did! Look, kid, school can definitely suck, but you'll find _someone_ to click with."

"No, _you _look, Ralph! That didn't happen at my old school!"

Ralph hesitates, stunned at her reply. He tries to think of the right words to say, because Vanellope looks like she's going to explode from anxiety any second now. The man sits up as she continues her restless pacing, and she stops in front of him to stare as if waiting for a response. He firmly plants both of his hands on her shoulders and looks at her directly in the eyes.

"_Kid_. Everything is going to be okay. Stressing over the million different possible outcomes of today isn't going to help you at all. Just trust me on this. . . you're gonna do great."

Vanellope holds her steady gaze for a few more seconds before turning her head away. While she appreciates Ralph's words, she does not necessarily believe them after living life in her old high school. But he's still looking straight at her, and he's smiling reassuringly, and as she looks back to him, it makes her feel a bit better. She wants to try believing him.

"You know, I never thought that someone I tried to rob would be giving me words of encouragement right now." Vanellope grins, and Ralph looks a bit relieved.

"Just listen to me, alright? I know what I'm talking about."

"Well, I'm not sure how much a hobo knows, but I guess I have to take your word for it."

Ralph looks irritated at this, but his expression only causes Vanellope to giggle. His frown softens at the sight of her smile.

"Glad to know that your cheeky self is back again."

* * *

Vanellope stares up, her eyes wide as her brand new high school looms over her. It was an intimidating building to say the least, and it didn't make her nerves feel any better. She swallows back the lump that's formed in her throat as she takes it all in. She was in the middle of the front courtyard, where she was surrounded by small, well-maintained wooden benches and dabbles of greenery. The sun, not hidden away by clouds, beams down at her, making the concrete below hot to the touch.

On both of her sides lay buildings of pewter stone and glass; the massive frameless windows show glimpses of the polished hallways and the endless rows of lockers. The two buildings sandwich the front, main building; it feels like they are closing in on Vanellope, trapping her in the square courtyard. The main building's front is made almost entirely out of glass, save for the mosaic of metal bars upholding its structure. It leaves nothing to the imagination, letting the outside world see its innards. The words 'King High School' are engraved right in the center; it feels like the words are glaring menacingly down at Vanellope.

The grip that she has on the straps of her backpack tightens considerably as she rereads the words a few times over, her heart beating a little faster each time she processes the words. _Alright, Vanellope, it's now or never,_ she thinks to herself. _Plus, people will think you're a weirdo for standing out here for so long_. She tries to find the courage to go in, and finally stumbles upon inner solace when she thinks back onto Ralph's words from this morning.

_Just trust me on this. . . you're gonna do great, _she can almost hear his voice in her mind.

Her feet finally decide to start moving much to her relief, and she tries to ignore her increasing heart rate as she heads up to the front doors. There's a few other students still heading in, and Vanellope tries to ignore the fact that she's probably getting stared at since she's the new girl and heads inside. She's overwhelmed from all sides the moment she walks in, as there's a plethora of students spread out among the hall. For a moment, she panics in quiet silence as she stands there stiffly, her anxiety quickly returning.

"Hey, are you new here?"

Vanellope snaps out of her fog when she hears a voice speaking to her. She blinks in surprise when she finds a boy standing in front of her, his head slightly tilted as he observes her. She can't help but notice that he's got these golden locks of hair that fall perfectly around his face—it is quite obvious he takes good care of it. He's got a brown jacket around his shoulders that perfectly seems to compliment his blue eyes, which Vanellope is now staring into.

Coming back out of a second daze, Vanellope finds words to say, "Y-yeah, I am new here."

_Great, nice stammer, moron_.

"Do you need any help finding your way around?" he asks.

She brushes away a stray piece of hair that's gotten in her face as she lets out an airy laugh, "This place is pretty big. I'm not really sure where my locker is, so if you could help, that'd be awesome."

"Sure!" he replies, and Vanellope wonders if she's lucky enough to stumble upon someone so nice, or if there are others like him around. "What's your locker number?"

"It's 997."

"That's funny, your locker is right next to mine," he says, smirking, "just follow me."

He turns and she easily walks beside him. Her eyes don't leave him, but he's staring ahead instead of at her. She's still taking in his rosy cheeks, and the quirky little way that he occasionally flips some hair out of his face. _So this is what a King High School student looks like. . . _she thinks to herself. She settles into her own smile and finally brings herself to look away as she surveys the other students in the hall.

"Sooo. . . I never got your name." Vanellope laughs awkwardly.

"Oh, sorry—I'm Rancis Fluggerbutter. But you can just call me Rancis."

"Nice to meet you, Rancis. My name's Vanellope. So. . . you can just call me Vanellope."

_Shut up, you idiot. What, have you never spoken to someone before?_

Rancis, though, doesn't seem to be bothered by this despite her own internalized awkwardness. He throws a smile her way as they snake through a group of students hanging out in the hallway.

"Alright, Vanellope, we're almost there. Say, you need any help getting anywhere else today?"

"Oh. . . I think I'll need some help with the classroom numbers. There's a new student orientation that I should go to as well, but I have no idea where it's at."

"No problem, I know where it'll be. In other news, here's your locker."

Vanellope looks to her left to see locker 997 staring back at her, and she grins. For a second, she was bracing for the worst—that Rancis might lead her in the wrong direction, and that he had a fake niceness to him like most of the people at her old school. She's glad she's wrong.

She tugs her locker open and pulls her backpack off her shoulders. As she unloads its contents, Rancis starts talking to her again.

"When you're done, we can head over to the student orientation."

"Cool," Vanellope grins at him, but internally facepalms because of her lame reply.

It doesn't take her much longer to finish emptying the contents of her backpack, and she shoves that in her locker, too. Then, she turns to face him, but he's sidetracked with his own locker. He's got a mirror on the inside of it, and he's staring into his reflection and making sure his hair looks perfect. _Sheesh, Rancis is kind of a prissy boy, isn't he?_ Vanellope has to hold back her smirk. Though, prissy or not, he is nice, and that's all she cares about.

Once he finishes, he turns to look at her as he shuts his locker, "Ready to go?"

Vanellope affirms this with a nod, and the two are off.

Arriving at the iron doors of the gym, the lump in Vanellope's throat grows back once again, and her heartbeat picks up. _Fiddlesticks… what if everyone laughs at me once I go through this door? _She thinks to herself.

Rancis notices that Vanellope's gaze is downcast, and he gently puts a hand on her shoulder.

"You got this, Vanellope," he says with a kind, warm smile.

_That's something Ralph would say to me in this moment. . ._

She replies to him with her own smile, "Thanks, Rancis," she murmurs, soft enough for only him to hear.

Bidding the boy a quick goodbye, she turns her attention back to the doors to the gym again.

_Again, Vanellope, it's now or never!_

She pulls open the heavy door and takes a look inside. "Wow," is all she can manage to say.

The gym is colossal: countless spotlights above light up the entire space, and the polished, wooden floor reflects the uniform circles of lights from overhead. The walls are painted a pearly white with vibrant pink accents, and the massive bleachers cover half of the gym. There is a second floor to the gym, only accessible by stairs, with extra rows of bleachers and a tall glass border looking out to the floor. _Wow, this place is really extra, _Vanellope comments.

People are settling down on the bleachers, none of which she knew, and a tiny, old man is standing on the middle of the floor, waving his hands enthusiastically to every passing student. He's donning a purple suit with a large, red bow tie around his neck. His hair, or what's left of it, has greyed while highlights of white ran through it. There's no hair on the top of his scalp, leaving it to the sides of his head. He seems very friendly and cheerful.

Vanellope finds her own spot a few rows up from the ground, and she sits uncomfortably between two strangers. She wishes that Rancis was here to accompany her, but she knows she has to get used to all these new people around her on her own accord anyhow. Her fingertips grip at the edge of her skirt as she nervously shifts her eyes back and forth between the two people on either side of her, but neither take notice of her, nor seem to care that she's actually there. She finds herself relieved at this.

"Hello, everyone! Settle down, settle down, please!"

The old man calls out to the students, and the excited chatter among the school's newest arrivals starts to die down and befalls the room into silence. This seems to please him as he takes his place in front of a podium.

"Welcome to your first day at King High School! My name is Mr. Candy, and it is my honor to be greeting you all today. I am so happy to see so many wonderful new faces here at our school. I hope that all of you settle in nicely and enjoy yourselves."

Vanellope can't help but be distracted by his clear lisp as he speaks. When she had read his letter, she had pictured him far differently in her mind—perhaps more serious, and not as weird-looking.

"As you all know, King High School expects high performance from all of its students. We have many extracurricular activities, electives, and other resources that should enhance your high school experience here at King."

He turns and gestures to the crowd with both arms, his mouth pulled into a wide smile as he continues.

"Today will be the start of a delightful journey for all of you. Think of King as your second home now, because we _always_ will have open arms for you to accommodate all of our students' needs. Now, I'd like to introduce one of our junior students and ask her to come down to the floor to handle the rest of the presentation. Miss Muttonfudge, if you will?"

Mr. Candy steps aside from the podium as a girl appears from wherever she'd been previously sitting.

Vanellope's eyes immediately hit her and she begins to take in her appearance.

The girl has a soft face that had seen many days in the sun, but icy, crystalline blue eyes that can bore daggers into anyone's skull. Her small lips sport a frown, and her shoulders move with her as she sighs. She has short, honeycomb-yellow hair with a straight fringe, which frame her face even closer to her glaring eyes. She puts her hands in her pink track jacket and strolls toward the podium, with everyone staring after her.

Vanellope fails to pull her eyes away from this girl as she finally takes center stage. She takes one moment to take in a breath, before the edges of her mouth upturn and she looks out at the crowd.

"Hi! My name's Taffyta Muttonfudge. I'm glad to be able to speak in front of everyone today. Since you're all new here, there's a lot to take in, but just follow along with the presentation and listen to my words, and you should be fine."

Vanellope, now identifying the girl as Taffyta, notices that behind her a projector starts to display a power-point, and the lights dim slightly. It says in big, black letters, '_WELCOME TO KING HIGH SCHOOL!_' on the first slide.

Vanellope, though, redirects her sight to Taffyta. She's talking about important stuff, but to Vanellope it sounds like pure nonsense. All she can focus on is the way Taffyta talks and how confident she is in her skin.

Her voice, too, was radiating a strong energy. Vanellope can't help but realize how nice it is to listen to her talk. She follows Taffyta's face as she goes from smiling, to serious, to frowning, to smiling again. The way she articulates her words has Vanellope hypnotized, but she's also lost in thoughts that were consuming her mind.

She wants to meet Taffyta in person, and that thought makes her both anxious and excited. It feels like she's just the perfect candidate for a friend. Vanellope's heartbeat increases in speed as Taffyta looks out to the crowd again, and their eyes meet for the briefest moment.

Vanellope forces her jaw back in place once Taffyta looks away, and feels embarrassment befall her. She must've had such a silly look on her face.

* * *

Vanellope stands in front of her locker and opens it. She's feeling a lot better after the orientation and was glad she decided to attend. Not that she remembers much of what was said during the presentation, but still, it was an experience. She's actually pretty curious about that girl who Mr. Candy allowed to present.

She turns her head as she notices Rancis is digging around in his locker, too. Vanellope's lips curl into a smile, and she opens her mouth.

"Hey, Ran—" she's about to say, when she goes dead silent when she sees what plays out in front of her.

Rancis had been staring at his mirror just a moment ago before, speak of the devil, Taffyta sidles up next to him and reaches one hand up to run a finger along his jaw.

"Hi, baby," she draws the words out as though she was doing it on purpose. Her piercing, blue eyes shift over at Vanellope for the briefest of moments before she redirects them back to Rancis. He's already turned toward her.

Before he can get any word in, she puts her hands on his shoulders and presses forward, her lips meeting his. It's a quick kiss, but still, a kiss. Taffyta looks smug and satisfied with her actions as she continues to stare up at Rancis and completely ignores Vanellope's existence.

And Vanellope, on the other hand, stares intensely at them. She finally was able to pull her eyes away, and the smile had long ago dropped off her face. Her chest squeezes in, making her breaths shallow. She unconsciously balls up her fists and squeezes hard on her palms; her jaw clenches tight and she starts grinding her teeth.

Vanellope snatches up her notebook and slams her locker door shut with a loud _bang _before she stomps away. _I can find my own class. I don't need some prissy boy to direct me._ Her footsteps are heavy and her hands start hurting from squeezing too hard. She hangs her head low and focuses on counting the tiles on the floor, rather than the events that had just unfolded in front of her very eyes. Oh, how she wishes she could unsee that, but alas, she cannot.

She's suddenly glad she's memorized her schedule and where each class will take place, because right now, she doesn't feel like talking to anyone. Finally, she finds her class and walks in, already dreading this subject. Vanellope has never been very good at math, but she's been told in the past it's typical for teens her age to struggle with the subject. Algebra I was a nightmare, and she's not so ready for what Algebra II is going to throw at her.

Vanellope's eyes scan the room for a brief moment, and she sighs in relief when she doesn't see Taffyta or Rancis. She spots a desk near the center, and upon realizing there's not many desks left, she decides to take it. She plops down in her seat and places down her notebook.

Most of her anger has ebbed away at this point, but she still is feeling a tad bit salty about the situation. She balances her pencil between two of her fingers as she stares down the lines of her notebook, trying her best to clear her mind of any and all thoughts of—

"Hey, Vanellope, where did you run off to?"

Vanellope has to hold in a gasp as she's broken from thought, and looks to her left to see Rancis taking the desk next to her. _Great, great. . . this is just fantastic!_ She struggles to keep a friendly voice as she forces a smile onto her face.

"Oh, you know, I was just scared the bell was going to ring. . . and you seemed pretty busy back at our lockers," she says in the most innocent tone she can try for. Rancis chuckles at this before he leans back in his seat.

"Ha, yeah, I guess so. My girlfriend always tries to find the time to see me before classes."

_Oh, hell no. If I have to see them kiss again, I think I'm gonna throw up_, Vanellope thinks to herself, and avoids letting the disgust she feels appear on her face.

"That's so sweet," Vanellope replies, "she must be such a nice person."

"She is," Rancis murmurs, but Vanellope can't help but notice the slight shift in tone as he finally looks away, ending the conversation.

"Attention, class!" declared a cheerful voice. Its owner comes into the class a moment later.

It's a dark-skinned woman, quite young, with her lush, shiny hair formed into a pompadour, except the sides of her head, which remain shaved. Vanellope notices that her hair is dyed a brilliant blue, and some top buttons from her blouse are unbuttoned. She strides to the front of the classroom, and each step from her long legs exudes confidence. A pair of sunglasses rest on top of her head and sapphire earrings hang low from her ears.

_Woah, she's cool, _thinks Vanellope with her mouth gaping.

"My name is Ms. Yesss—that's three s's, by the way—and I'm going to be your Algebra II teacher! I know that math can tend to be a drag, but I can assure you this class won't be like any other math you've had before. In this class I'll actually be seeking to _teach_ you, not fail you. Now, we'll go over the syllabus for today, but once tomorrow comes, we'll start going over factoring."

Vanellope normally tunes out her math class, but she's totally enthralled with Ms. Yesss's energy. She's got a pep in her step as she walks back and forth in front of the classroom, and her smile is seriously contagious. _I think I'm actually gonna like math for once. . ._ Vanellope thinks to herself.

The class is over before anyone even realizes it's time to go.

At the door of her English class, Vanellope smiles at the thought of her next teacher. _I hope they're going to be like Ms. Yesss. . ._

She walks through the door, and she meets a stout, tiny man with chubby cheeks. He is entirely bald, save for the back of his head, and his over-sized, round glasses make his large face seem even bigger. In spite of his appearance, he gives Vanellope a bright smile as she passes him to reach her desk.

Once everyone has settled into their seats, the man jumps down from his chair. He struggles to write something on the chalkboard, as he can barely reach the center of the board. 'Mr Knowsmore' forms on the chalkboard in clumsy, large script.

"Hello everyone, my name is Mr. Knowsmore. I'm glad to be seeing all of you today. As many of you already know, English is a vital part of your education. By next summer, I will have all of you in tip-top shape since you will be writing many essays and taking many tests over the material. . . By the way, you will be reading many of my favorite books, and I can't wait to see you guys discuss the nuances of the books. . . In addition, I will be assigning you thorough, lengthy assignments to develop your understanding of the reading material. I hope that you all will be well versed in English literature by the end of this year."

Vanellope's already resting her head on her hand, the boredom easily setting in. She easily tunes him out, and sighs through her nose. _Well. . . it was wishful thinking. . . _Mr. Knowsmore doesn't miss a beat or stop talking for a moment, and it's almost exhausting to listen to. It's clear he has good intentions, and is pretty enthusiastic about his class, but he's boring all of them to death with his voice, and she's already dreading the thought of his assignments.

The class feels twice as longer than Ms. Yesss's class. Vanellope never thought she would see the day where she prefers a math class over an English class, but she is just glad neither Rancis nor Taffyta are present in the class.

". . .Starting tomorrow, we will start reading _Huckleberry Finn_. I expect by Wednesday that you'll all have read the first five chapters and will be ready to have a class discussion over what takes place-"

Finally, Mr. Knowsmore is interrupted by the bell as it blares overhead. The class suddenly comes back to life and Vanellope, who was falling asleep, is immediately woken from her daze. On the way out Mr. Knowsmore gives them a friendly reminder of their reading assignment while Vanellope still is rubbing the sleep from her eyes, and has to suppress a groan of annoyance at the thought of already having homework.

Vanellope is fully awake again when she makes her way to the next class, one that she was unfamiliar with. She's never had this class before, her old school never offered it to its students. She imagines it can't possibly be as boring as Mr. Knowsmore's class, so that gets her a little excited.

Her next class is woodworking, and she is stunned by the grandiose, complex machines that are scattered across the room. The room itself is very large, and it allows Vanellope to maneuver easily.

A petite man with a round face and scintillating blue eyes stands in the center of the room. He's wearing a simple blue shirt and jeans, but his warm, wide smile draws attention of every student in the room. It's almost like he's sparkling; his toothy grin is as bright and welcoming as the dazzling sun after a shower of rain. He greets Vanellope with a tip of his baseball cap and a small wave. _The hat tipping was a bit dramatic. . . geez, he's barely an inch taller than me, _Vanellope thinks, but she returns the wave nonetheless.

At the corner of her eye, she sees a signature pink track jacket enter the room. Taffyta struts into the class, with a girl with odd green hair following her. Her eyes are half-lidded and her mouth is in a disinterested frown as she takes a seat next to her green-haired friend.

_Oh great. . . I'm sharing a class with her, _Vanellope groans internally as she stares at the back of Taffyta's head from her stool.

After everyone settles down, the man clears his throat and begins to speak:

"How do you do, everyone? My name is Mr. Fixit, and I welcome y'all to woodwork," he says, rotating to smile at every corner of the room, "we'll be doing a lot of building in this class, so I hope you brought your creativity along with you!"

He literally is beaming with positivity, there's no doubt that he's very enthusiastic about his job. But it's his energy, too—he's got this niceness about him that makes him seem easy to talk to. Vanellope already likes him, and she focuses on his words instead of the existence of Taffyta in the room with her. The teacher seems to grow a bit serious, though, as he continues on in talking.

"Some of the machinery we work with can be a _teensy_ bit dangerous, so I expect no tomfoolery to take place while we're using them. When we use our machines to create, I hope that everyone will abide to the rules which are only there to ensure your safety. I only ask that you wear goggles, gloves, and an apron so that you avoid harm or getting dirty."

Vanellope's eyes zone in on Taffyta again. She can just tell by her slumped shoulders and crossed arms that she thinks Mr. Fixit is annoying, and that gets under Vanellope's skin. _He's got to be one of the nicest teachers ever, and just look at her!_ Vanellope starts gripping onto the sides of her stool and digs her fingers into the wood. For the second time today, she can't keep her eyes off Taffyta.

The screeching of the bell frees Vanellope from her Taffyta-induced trance. She waits until she and her green-haired friend disappear from the classroom before she collects her stuff and gets to her feet. _I hope that's the last time I'll see her today, _Vanellope prays.

She heads to her next class and peeks her head in to check for Taffyta or Rancis, and feels relieved to see neither of them there—that's when she actually takes in the room itself. Vanellope finds herself amazed at all the computers that array the classroom. She has always been interested in technology and computers, but the orphanage couldn't afford computers for the children; the most she's had is her phone, though she had always wanted some sort of computer of her own. She prances over to the nearest computer and sits herself down; she starts pressing keys on the keyboard, fascinated by the sound.

Once everyone has taken a seat, the teacher stands up from her desk chair.

The teacher is a woman with sun-kissed skin and flowing, walnut-brown hair. Her sharp eyes scream 'dangerous,' but their soft autumnal brown beams an unusual warmth. Vanellope's eyes are drawn to her large, golden hoops as they reflect light emitted from computer screens. She also notices that with her wrinkled, white blouse's sleeves rolled up, a faded knife tattoo can be seen on her left forearm. Running a hand through her coarse hair and letting it fall in her face, the teacher heaves an exasperated sigh. She takes one more moment before her eyes look up and a smile finds its way onto her lips.

"Alright, listen up guys. We have a long year ahead of us, and there's a lot to learn. Computer science shouldn't be too difficult for you guys, but it can be a little tricky in the beginning. My name is Ms. Shank, by the way; it's gonna be one heck of a ride through this semester. But don't worry—if you have any questions, then feel free to ask me."

For some reason, she's really reassuring, and Vanellope only grows more excited about this class. Ms. Shank moves from standing at her desk to the front of the room to her interactive whiteboard. Vanellope can't help but notice that she has a limp in her gait: she always walks her right leg forward first, and her left leg hops to meet it.

Her attention was snapped away from Ms. Shank to a girl sitting in front of her. Even though the majority of the head was hidden by her computer monitor, Vanellope instantly recognizes the green locks of hair and realizes that it's the girl who was sitting with Taffyta in Mr. Fixit's class. _Well. . . at least it's not Taffyta, _she sighs externally, but no one notices.

During the majority of the class, Vanellope plays with the keys on her keyboard as she listens to Ms. Shank's voice speaking to the rest of the students. Much to Vanellope's dismay, the bell rings sooner than she anticipated, and she's forced to leave the computer. That's when she makes her way to her next class.

Vanellope returns to the gym for the second time today; her final class is physical education. She sits on the bleachers, waiting for the teacher and the other students to enter the gym.

For the fourth time today, she sees a signature pink track jacket pop into her field of vision. Rancis and the green-haired friend comes in a beat later, following after.

_Oh my god. The worst possible combination. . ._ groans Vanellope. She holds her head in her palms as she starts to contemplate the fastest way to break her leg so she can skip this class.


	3. Chapter 3

"I don't think I'm going to enjoy this class." Taffyta says as she sits on the bleachers, her company in tow as they also take a seat on either side of her.

"A little exercise won't kill you!" the green-haired girl says with a giggle. It's cut off and she cries out an _ow_ as Taffyta bops her on the head.

"It's not the exercise, Candlehead, it's the _teacher_. It's that shotty ex-soldier that always scares everyone." Taffyta snaps at her as Candlehead rubs where she'd been whacked. Then Taffyta lowers her voice before she snickers, "I hear she's got a temper. She can get pretty mean."

Candlehead squeaks in fear, and Rancis rolls his eyes.

At this point, Vanellope's annoyed, and she's forced herself to tune their voices out.

"Attention, class!" roared a voice entering the gym.

A woman with a dirty blonde pixie-cut walks into the room; she's towering over all the students that came after her. She's wearing a simple white t-shirt and camo pants, but it fails to hide her toned, muscular arms. The woman has her eyebrows knitted together and a scowl on her face; all of the students close to her scamper out of her way. The whole gym goes silent as everyone's eyes turn to this intimidating woman.

"You may address me as Calhoun. I will not tolerate any misbehavior or whining whatsoever. I expect everyone to show up to class in their P.E. uniforms _everyday_, and if you don't, I'll have no choice but to discipline you."

At the mentioning of 'discipline,' which was ominously vague, all the students have fear run through their veins at the same time. Aside from Taffyta, who's just looking pretty uncomfortable at this point despite her snarky words prior.

"I've laid out sets of said uniform out on the bleachers over there," she points with one finger, keeping her other hand firmly on her hip, "and I suggest getting a pair and changing into it _now_."

It's like a black Friday rush as everyone leaps from their seats and races toward the uniforms. Vanellope struggles to wiggle her way to the front of the crowd as all the students pick through the uniforms like vultures to find their right size. Finally she manages to get to the uniforms, much to her relief. She's still being pushed around and shoved, and that makes her irritated. _Geez, I know the lady is intimidating, but still!_

She finally catches sight of the small uniforms, and sees only one is left. As she reaches forward, another hand comes from out of nowhere and snatches up the uniform in its grasp. Vanellope's eyes widen and she immediately looks up to see the perpetrator.

"Oh, I'm sorry, were you going to get that? Better luck next time!"

Vanellope can't get a word out as she watches Taffyta sashay away, uniform in hand as she seeks out the locker room to change. That's the closest she's been to the other girl, and her blood is now boiling. Although her blood is boiling, Vanellope can't help but notice that Taffyta actually smells pretty pleasant—like strawberries.

Now not being able to find a uniform in her small size, she reluctantly chooses a medium and heads off to the locker room herself. She easily finds it by following the crowd of other girls. Vanellope finds a secluded spot where she changes into the size-too-big uniform, and sighs. She looks ridiculous and she knows it.

She's turning the corner to leave when she catches sight of Taffyta, and Candlehead as always is right by her side.

"How do I look?" Taffyta confides in her friend, striking a pose.

"Adorable!" Candlehead grins at her.

Well, Candlehead wasn't kidding. Vanellope hates to admit it, but Taffyta looks really cute in the uniform that should've been hers. In fact, she looks amazing—it fits right to her form and the simple white-with the words _King High School_ brandished on the front along with the school mascot—it really does compliment her face.

"So you think Rancis will like it?" Taffyta asks.

"He'll love it." Candlehead answers.

_And I'm going to vomit._ Vanellope thinks to herself, disappearing back out into the gym. As she makes her way out, she makes sure to pull the drawstrings on the black shorts as tight as she can. She hears a few snickers—it's clear that they're directed at her, but she just ignores them as she joins the other students in line. The outfit is super baggy looking on her, but she doesn't really mind other than the stares she's obviously getting.

Everyone appears to have come back out and have taken their place in line. Calhoun's crystal blue eyes are piercing into her students as she walks and stares each one down. That's when her eyes hit Vanellope.

Immediately, the girl feels uncomfortable while her teacher takes her in. The look continues to linger, and Vanellope knows she's about to get chewed out for not having gotten the proper size.

"You, what's your name?" Calhoun asks her, her eyes staring straight into Vanellope's without budging. Vanellope keeps up the stare, too, unsure of what might happen if she breaks it.

"Vanellope Von Schweetz," she answers, swallowing a bit harshly.

"What's the reasoning for this?" Calhoun gestures to her outfit, and there's a few more snickers. The teacher redirects her frigid stare toward the laughter, though, and it quickly dies out.

"There were none left in small, I'm sorry." Vanellope replies. She really wants to follow up with, _the last one was stolen from me, _but she chooses not to. Calhoun's death stare seems to let up a bit as she shifts on her feet, and the iciness seems to deteriorate a bit.

"Alright, I'll make sure you get the right size. It appears I misjudged the amount of uniforms I would actually need. . . that one's on me. I will deliver it to you tomorrow."

Vanellope can see that behind that cold front, Calhoun doesn't seem so bad after all. She grins at her teacher and nods, but doesn't get one back, and that's okay. She breathes a sigh of relief as Calhoun continues down the line to make sure everyone looks proper.

"Hey, you."

Vanellope straightens again when she thinks she's being called on a second time, but she glances to see that this time it's Taffyta who is getting the death stare from Calhoun. Taffyta seems unbothered as she looks up at her teacher, raising one brow.

"Food is strictly prohibited in this class, and candy is no exception."

That's when Vanellope spots the lollipop stick that's poking out from between Taffyta's lips, but the blonde girl looks up cheekily at the teacher instead of looking scared.

"Maybe you should have told me sooner." Taffyta responds, not missing a beat.

Candlehead from beside her keeps looking from Calhoun to Taffyta, back and forth between the two with a clear fear in her eyes. Meanwhile, Vanellope's jaw is dropped, in disbelief that she's disrespecting the teacher so upfront like this.

"Spit it out, Muttonfudge, before I send you to the principal's office." Calhoun says to her, her tone revealing nothing but warning. Taffyta appears to take this threat a bit more seriously as she takes it out and shoves it into her pocket reluctantly.

Calhoun lets one last look linger on her before moving on to the rest of the students, and Taffyta rolls her eyes. _How can someone who seemed so. . . cool, be so sassy? _Vanellope can't help but think this to herself.

Calhoun gets to the end of the line, stops, and turns to face them.

"Now that all that nuances are sorted out, you all have to run a mile outside on the track field."

All the students collectively groan; they all knew this was coming, but they all were dreading it anyway. A bunch of high school students don't wanna run a mile, but then again, no one really does no matter how old they are.

The students head outside, not wanting to be cooped up in the gym any longer. Vanellope's pretty used to running around because of her runs in pickpocketing people. She takes this time to appreciate the school grounds, and the sun feels good on her face. Even if she does have to make sure her shorts aren't about to fall down due to their size, she thinks about the fact that she's enjoying her school experience this far.

Her eyes, though, can't help but shift over to where Rancis and Taffyta are running together. Something about seeing them together, hearing them laugh, and look at each other with goo-goo eyes. . . it just feels wrong to Vanellope. There's the recurring tightness in her chest that appears suddenly again, and she tries her hardest to pay attention to her own run instead of theirs that they're sharing together. As if her mind is purposely attempting to torture itself, she finds herself noticing that they're even holding hands as they jog in unison.

It's almost painful to watch—and she quickly realizes, as the discomfort turns into desire, that she's undeniably jealous.

* * *

Vanellope slams her door behind her and doesn't even bother to lock it as she throws her backpack on the floor and falls backward onto the couch. Her mind's swimming with almost an endless stream of thoughts. She's not sure _what_ to think about her current situation that she's fixated on. Her eyes are staring up at the ceiling when a familiar face suddenly blocks her view.

"Was the first day back that tiring?" Ralph asks.

Vanellope immediately sits up and gets to her feet. The man blinks as he watches her start to pace around in the small space that was the living room. Her brows are furrowed together as she finally answers, not stopping in her stressed movement.

"No, it wasn't tiring. I really like most of my teachers, and I even met a nice guy named Rancis."

"So what's the catch?" Ralph tilts his head in confusion.

She pauses as she turns to fully face him.

"Well. . . there's this girl. . ." Vanellope starts.

"Oh boy," Ralph mutters under his breath, but his little friend doesn't hear.

"She's got everything a girl could ever want—a group of friends, a pretty face, confidence. . ." Vanellope sighs in frustration.

"I have to tell you, kid, I'm kind of lost here." Ralph admits. "What's this have to do with that nice guy you met?"

"Well, she's _dating _this 'nice guy' Ralph! That's kinda the problem!" Vanellope snaps, as though he should've put that together already. Ralph's eyes widen for a second before he starts to nod in understanding. One hand reaches up as he pushes back his hair, and he puffs out a breath of air.

"I see what's going on here," he says.

"You do?" she asks, looking at him hopefully.

"Yeah, you have a crush on him."

"Eww! What the heck, Ralph? No way!" she says, clamping a hand over her mouth as though she's about to throw up.

Ralph is lost all over again as he stares her down. Vanellope is frowning at him now, but she watches as he seems to think about what she's said.

His eyes widen and he gapes open his mouth.

"You like HER then!" Ralph says, snapping his fingers.

Vanellope feels a wave of shock wash over her at his words, and for a moment, she can only stare at him. Her mouth feels dry at the suggestion, and something about hearing that makes her feel weird. Then she just laughs.

"Don't be silly, hobo boy. I haven't even _talked_ to her."

"Well, you didn't freak out like you did with—what's his name—Francis?"

"It's Rancis, Ralph. Rancis. By the way, what are we having for dinner?"

Ralph can't help but raise his brow at how Vanellope changed the subject of the conversation so quickly. Nonetheless, he follows along.

"Well, kid, do you like spaghetti?"

* * *

"Look, Gene. You need to do something with those Gloyd and Swizzle kids. Today in my class, they were rough-housing each other while their table's saw was _ON_! Do you realize how dangerous that is?"

The man across the desk looks at Mr. Fixit with only the slightest bit of care: he's resting his elbow on the desk and leaning into his closed fist.

"You already know at this point, Felix, that I'm currently working on it. Complaining to me for the fifth time today—and it's only the first day of the school year. mind you—won't make the process go faster."

Felix isn't satisfied; his arms remain folded across his chest.

"Can't you do anything about it now? Just pull them out of my class and talk to them. I don't want it happening again, they can get hurt."

Gene heaves a sigh and continues to entertain the irritated teacher. With every sentence, his eyelids drop a little bit further down.

"You know that Mr. Candy already said that I can't just pull them out. There's so much a vice principal can do. Now, Felix, if you are done venting, you should go home. School is over now."

Felix can only sigh at this response, and he concedes as he nods his head.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Gene." He says, and the vice principal waves him off without taking his eyes away from the papers on his desk.

Felix walks out of Gene's office and closes the door behind him as quietly as he can, sighing. He feels a little defeated by the vice principal's words, but knows that he should be patient. Otherwise, he'll just have to talk to the boys himself, but he thinks that them being reprimanded by someone with a bit more power would do them good.

Still, he is heated and in need of a glass of cold ice water. With a chip still on his shoulder, he stalks towards the teacher's lounge. As he goes on his way, he greets some of his coworkers passing by with a friendly smile, already feeling a bit lighter once he's away from Gene's office. This is only his fourth year teaching, but his love for working with kids and the bright atmosphere guarantees many more years to come.

Entering the teacher's lounge, he immediately stops. There is his holy grail, the water cooler, but it is currently being used by the stolid Calhoun. Even though her back is turned to him, Felix can't help but admire her broad back and her well-trained muscles. Though the two have never actually had much conversation beyond greeting each other as acquaintances, Felix finds himself in a hopeless situation—he has developed feelings for her.

It is, however, a _hopeless_ situation. She is a beautiful lady, that much is true—but she didn't appear very interested in making friends at the school. In fact, most of Felix's coworkers would name her the loner of the staff, and know from the rumors spread by students that she can be quite the formidable teacher—and person. Aside from that, Felix wasn't so sure he even stood a _chance_. She can get any man in the world if she so desires, and he isn't exactly in her league. . . but whenever he looks at her, his stomach is filled with butterflies. He knows he is sunk, and doubts Calhoun will ever actually give him the time of day.

As if on cue, she whips her head to the side, detecting his presence. Looking at him from the corner of her eye, she jerks her head towards the water cooler. "Waitin' for this?"

Felix snaps out of his thoughts when she speaks to him, looking quite startled. He looks over his shoulder for a moment, just to confirm that it's _him_ that she's talking to, and not someone else. When there's no one there, he looks back ahead and awkwardly laughs as he tries to play off his nerves, and rubs the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Y-yes, ma'am." He can't help but stammer, and he's smiling like a complete idiot. He's instantly in a trance as he stares at her. Half of his mind tries to fight for something to say, like, _How did your classes go? _The other half of his mind is focused on how _beautiful_ she looks.

Calhoun's eyes flit from him, back to the water cooler, and then back at him again. She taps a finger on the side of her cup of water before she clears her throat, "Well, don't let me stop you from quenching your thirst."

With that, she walks past him—making sure to put a bit of pep in her step, because the way he's staring is not only confusing her, but sort of weirding her out at the same time—and disappears from the teacher's lounge.

Felix snaps out of it the moment she's gone, and he clamps one hand over his mouth. Not only did he look like an idiot, but he must've really sounded like one, too. Internally he kicks himself, but on the outside he's still recovering. His whole face is warm to the touch, and he starts to pray she didn't notice how flustered he'd been.

_Oh, she really gives me the honeyglows something awful. . ._

Not even a cup of water can help cool him off now.


End file.
